Sorrow
by Serephy
Summary: At the dawn of senior year, Naruto discovered a peculiarly confined boy who happened to be at the center of a bloody incident in preschool. This is Sasuke's sorrowful tragedy, uncovered by pure curiosity. NaruSasu, yaoi, AU, some OOC.
1. Cage

**Sorrow**

_By Serephy_

**Warnings: **There will be OOC (because of the situations, I think it's fitting), overprotective! Itachi and – most of all, Yaoi between Naruto and Sasuke. Rated for some graphic moments and language. Standard disclaimers apply.

**AN:** If you're wondering what happened to my present tense writing, I'll tell you that I thought a past tense was more suitable. I got the idea in biology class – and yes, the disease described is real.I don't intend on revealing everything in the first chapter, so be patient! Thank you all for waiting patiently. (And please be sure to vote in my new poll)

* * *

"_Why can't I?" Barely a whisper escaped from his lips. He squeezed his hand urgently, as if he'll fall off a cliff if he released it. Naruto's blue eyes reached Sasuke's, his way of uttering a soundless sentence. Naruto embraced him, although he wasn't aware that the movement will insult him. He felt Sasuke's entire body tremble – immediately, he knew that tears were staining his pillow with sorrow. _

"_Why can't I feel your warmth?"_

* * *

_September 1__st__, 1994, Konoha Elementary_

Wide, cerulean eyes scanned the swarm, hoping to spy old playmates from the park or a new, fascinating face. Eagerly, he released his father's hand and rushed into the horde of children, the same age as he. Minato chuckled as his young boy, barely a child, yet too old (at least, in his opinion) to be called a toddler, instantaneously introduced himself with a deafening screech.

"_I'm Uzumaki Naruto!"_

Other adults that are parting with their children for the very first time gave Minato uneasy smiles. He grinned in exchange with his pinkie in his ear. "He's loud," he commented to the dark haired woman who just returned from a chat with the teacher. The woman beamed sincerely at Minato, and then knelt down to look her child, who obstinately declined to let go of her hand, in the eye.

"Sasuke, you have to let go, okay?" she rubbed his back soothingly, in a way only mothers are capable of. "Mommy will be back later."

The youngster didn't bawl or throw a tantrum (something new to Minato). He simply clutched onto his mother as if his life depended on it. Even so, his dark eyes looked up at Minato behind his equally dark, unruly hair. The woman pulled away from her son, with the similar reluctance as every other parent in the room.

"Be a good boy, alright?"

The only response from the child was, "My neck is itchy." However, she didn't hear him over the boisterous buzz of everyone else. So, this Sasuke watched his mother abandon him in this strange place with his penetrating, impassive onyx eyes. Then, he turned to the chamber overflowing with children and departing parents. Minato gaped at him for the longest time before turning to leave. That small boy certainly possessed an outlandish aura. The eyes of that child were already telling everyone something...but no one would pay attention.

* * *

"I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and don't you forget it!"

The boy with the pitch black eyes looked lonely. Leaving someone like that left a bitter taste in the blonde's mouth. Naruto held out his hand.

That was when he saw _it._

The boy with the pitch black eyes pivoted to face Naruto. Immediately, he knew something was wrong.

His throat was a bright, bright red – covered in blood that clearly belonged to him. His fingers, coated in the same red liquid, continued on, scratching at his neck as if there something existed there, something _disgusting _that needed to get out. No tears were streaming down the boy's expressionless face. He paused and gazed at Naruto, then kept scratching on…and on…

Naruto screeched and started howling on the spot. He pointed his finger at the boy and sprinted away, to the other side of the room, where he was safe from the gushing, foreboding scarlet fluid. The aide rushed over to Naruto, to placate him. But the blonde wanted someone to help that friendless child with the pitch black eyes. The teacher was on the boy's side of the room, trying to tug his tiny fingers away from his profusely bleeding throat.

"Stop that, Sasuke!" Her shrill tone caused Sasuke to wince and dart away. The teacher caught up with him effortlessly as the aide phoned the ambulance. "Stop that," she repeated, softer, more motherly this time.

The boy looked up at her with his pitch black eyes. "But…my neck is itchy."

* * *

Tears fell like fierce waterfalls down Uchiha Mikoto's eyes as she ushered her nine-year-old into the car. As she sat herself down on the driver's seat and started up the vehicle, Itachi blinked at his mother. "What's wrong?" he inquired. Mikoto's shoulders quivered vehemently while she steadied her hands and feet to drive correctly.

"Mother?"

Silence.

"_Mom."_ Itachi prompted.

Mikoto blinked – it finally dawned upon her that her other son was attempting to attract her attention. "Ah…yes, Itachi?"

"What happened?"

She swallowed hard and confessed, mostly to herself. "I don't know."

The boy's face darkened considerably, in the same fashion as his father. Whenever he does that, Mikoto cringed – she never imagined that her first born son would grow up and mature so rapidly…from that slumbering, silent infant to this already brooding child. "Does it have something to do with Sasuke?" Itachi asked tactlessly. Mikoto knew that her son wasn't looking at her, so she just nodded.

Besides, Itachi knew the answer, anyway.

_

* * *

_

The darkness that had enveloped Sasuke for what seemed to be like an eternity turned into a light gray. The colors grew brighter and brighter, until he opened his eyes to the white light of an angelic, fair hospital. Sasuke would think that he had flown into heaven if it weren't for the doctor and nurse positioned at his bedside, watching him as if he were a lab rat.

_Back here again? _He used his hands to prop himself up. The movement caused the nurse to recoil in surprise. "Sasuke, you're awake," she exclaimed, her voice light and cheery. Still, even as a four year old, Sasuke recognized that facade. All the people that tended to him whenever he roused in this white building carried that bizarre, yet identifiable expression. He would learn later that it meant pity.

"Sasuke," the concerned doctor, Kakashi, cleared his throat. "Do you remember me?"

He nodded. That was when he touched the bandages, wrapped securely around his neck. Sasuke's hand instinctively flew up to the material. "Did I…" he mumbled, the very first thing he had uttered ever since he passed out, "…do something bad again?" The adults in the snow-white room exchanged apprehensive glances. To poor, puzzled Sasuke, that meant a yes. Protesting, he cried, "But my neck was only itchy! I didn't do anything bad!"

No one currently present in the room answered. Mikoto, Sasuke's mother, burst through the doors, her eyes puffy. She hurried to her son and embraced him, as if she hadn't seen him in months. "Mommy," the boy obscured in his mother's relieved bear hug said. "Why do I always come here?"

Mikoto was struck speechless at that. "Mommy," Sasuke murmured again, his voice quaking vaguely. "Is there something wrong with me?"

During the scene, Itachi situated himself at the doorway, his eyes framed in extensive lashes scrutinizing every movement like an observant scientist. In his pockets, his fists clenched with more force with every word that escaped his brother's mouth. Once his nails penetrated skin a little too severely, his hands relaxed tentatively. Because, after all, Sasuke's fists would keep squeezing tighter…and tighter…

That solitary notion shattered all others as easily as a bat would demolish a mirror. At long last, he moved from the entryway en route for the setting. Mechanically, Sasuke zipped from his mother's grip into his older brother's. Itachi unexpectedly felt cold liquid seep through the fabric of his shirt. He witnessed his younger brother's shoulders trembling as he sobbed into his stomach.

Because, after all, this _curse _never prohibited him from the feelings of the heart.

* * *

_September 2__nd__, 1994_

"Why didn't you tell me?"

His voice was always like an expert hunter's gun. Tough and precise, his bullets would always find their way into somebody's heart – whether positive, or negative the result.

"For God's sake, Mikoto, you could have killed him!"

Mikoto had fallen in love with the words that pacified…the words that charmed and moved her. Then, of course, his darker side manifested with matrimony and children and everyday life and troubles together. Even then, she believed that it's unjust to back out of their marriage now. Not while her eldest son transformed into surly and ominous teenager at such a premature age. Not while her youngest son is in such a disastrous condition.

"I wanted him to be like the other children."

Her straightforward, unconditional reasoning was what triggered Fugaku's love for her. Her, the sweetest young lady in the city. He should have known her absurd logic would turn around to bite him in the end. Hell, they were fortunate that their marriage held on for all these ten years. Other couples that retain comparable dilemmas may well have already been divided.

_We can and will hold out, _was what Fugaku thought. Or rather, wished for.

"Don't be a stupid woman. No kid like him can be like the others."

"Fugaku! You can't do this to him!"

"I _will, _Mikoto. It's for his own good."

To her, their marriage…their family is collapsing now.

To him, on the other hand, their marriage began falling apart by the fifth anniversary.

By the day Sasuke was born.

* * *

_July 23__rd__, 1990_

A family of three was present in the snow-white chamber. Soon, in less than a minute, it will transform into a family of four. Their son, Itachi, thought to be sleeping, planned to eavesdrop on everything, just because he felt something was off. Fugaku and Mikoto spoke in hushed yet thrilled whispers, wondering about the name of the infant boy, wondering what he is going to be like, wondering if he'll look more like his father or mother… wondering if he'll be anything like Itachi.

A new, foreign doctor with rowdy silver hair strode into the room, instead of the nurse who should be wheeling the newborn in. The two parents' heads turned simultaneously. Unbeknownst to everyone, the napping five-year-old's eye snapped open and then shut closed. Opportunely for him, nobody glimpsed that brief movement.

The expression on the male's face did not look ecstatic or jovial at all. It was quite the contrary – dark, solemn…foreboding.

Mikoto eventually asked, uncertainly, "Is there...something wrong, doctor?"

A gloomy sigh escaped from the man's lips. "Yes," he announced. "Yes, there actually is."

That was when it all went wrong.

* * *

It was surreal. Standing next to the infant lying on the undersized hospital bed was surreal. The fact that the baby was born just a few hours ago was surreal. _It has to be a dream. _Mikoto reached towards her newborn son and stroked his soft cheek. A tentative smile graced her features for a split second.

"He looks like you." Fugaku's voice struck like lightning. The mother rapidly removed her hand from her babe and pivoted to face him.

"It's only fair," she teased childishly, covering the anguish that squeezed at her delicate heart. "Itachi takes after you." Mikoto turned, again, to her son. "They say that," she murmured faintly, her world transforming into its solemn, adult self, "he won't live for so long."

"Mikoto-"

"I don't understand why…they said it was a one in twenty-five million chance of getting this…" choking on her words, she collapsed to the floor, her tears crashing down onto the suddenly deathly-white hospital floor. "Why him? _Why?_" Fugaku steeled himself for screaming, for uncontrollable movements and tears. The baby stirred in its sleep – that ceased his mother's tears.

Mikoto wiped the tears from her cheeks herself and stood up straight. She steered past her husband, who had no answer. She dodged her other son, who processed everything in his mind like the silent genius he was. Itachi watched her mother push open the ladies' restroom and disappear from sight, and then stood next to his father, whose eyes never left his new son.

Itachi, who was always a wise little boy, never asked questions. He never asked if his younger brother was okay, or what was going on. Instead, he broke the seemingly inexorable silence with, "What's his name?"

It took Fugaku moment to answer. "Sasuke. Uchiha Sasuke."

_Sasuke. _The powerful legendary ninja. _He can live through this._ Itachi told himself this repeatedly, until the idea got old and meaningless.

* * *

_September 4th, 1994 – July 23rd, 1995_

The first year of confinement, Sasuke failed to notice a thing. He didn't like the strange place with noisy children and prying adults with prying eyes. Comfortable in his own home, Sasuke learned through his mother, a seventh grade teacher, whenever she had the time. When she didn't, however, Itachi generously offered to teach his younger brother his ABCs and one, two, threes. Still, the days in the empty house, save the nanny that Sasuke never liked, were dull and seemingly interminable. On the other hand, his injuries and visits to the hospital lessened, and he barely got dizzy again.

It was only until Sasuke turned five that he realized what his parents were doing to him.

"I'm…not allowed to go outside?" Never had he been outside since he scratched his neck. Sasuke assumed that every child couldn't go outside at his age – until he spied a few happy-go-lucky kids playing ball on the street. "Why can't I?"

Fugaku frowned down on his child, his unfortunate child. "Because you can't," he answered simply.

"That's a stupid reply." Sasuke wasn't stupid.

His father shook his head. "You'll learn when you're older."

Sasuke hated that answer, but because he was dealing with his father, he couldn't interrogate him anymore. He trudged back to his room, his castle and his dungeon, and shut the door with a slam. Out of the corner of his eye, Fugaku spotted Itachi rolling his eyes. "What is it?" he asked harshly, thinking that Itachi's civilized, yet somehow rough behavior is rubbing off on Sasuke.

"Nothing, father," came the cultured reply.

"Good."

* * *

_May 25th, 2005_

Sasuke waited impatiently at home, right in front of the large, elaborate front window. How cruel were his parents, to forbid him from attending Itachi's college graduation ceremony! His elder brother, clearly born a genius, graduated early from law school at a shocking age of twenty. A surge of jealousy had invaded his body whenever Sasuke would hear of Itachi's feats. Surely, Sasuke had the same aptitude for success – there was only one thing holding him down.

That one thing was excellent at holding him down.

His family arrived at the door, sporting bright faces and genuine smiles. Sasuke never saw his parents smile like that, and he knew exactly why.

"Congrats, Itachi," Sasuke mumbled, opening the door for them. His family passed him by, each showing them their own way of acknowledging his presence. Mikoto hugged him, Fugaku simply nodded at him and Itachi gave him a playful poke on the forehead (a childhood habit). After conversing with each other over the events of the ceremony, Itachi left for his room.

When silence descended upon the Uchiha family, Sasuke posed a question. "Father, Mother," he announced, hoping his uncertainty didn't seep into his voice or face. "Will I be able to graduate like that?" Mikoto and Fugaku exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern, grief, and (in Fugaku's case) a tint of annoyance.

Neither of them answered his question. Instead, Mikoto hurriedly shut the door that Sasuke forgot to close and Fugaku marched into his study.

Still, their silence was an answer enough for Sasuke.

* * *

_October 10th, 2008_

He _should _be elated, but the fact remains that he isn't. Uzumaki Naruto drags his fatigued feet along the sidewalks, always using the path most taken by because there isn't any path that isn't used in Konoha. Not in small-town Konoha.

"Okay, Naruto," he said to himself as softly as possible, so the passing mailman wouldn't look at him as if he were crazy. "You're officially eighteen now. What are you going to do?" His cerulean eyes scanned the horizon with one swift movement, until it landed on that house.

The house that would change his life.

But, of course, he doesn't know that quite yet.

The only word that sprinted through Sasuke's mind at the moment was, _Idiot. _For about five minutes, that boy with blonde hair had been standing in front of their house, gawking at him peculiarly, as if he just grew another head. Even with his restricted knowledge of society, Sasuke understood that nobody in the right mind would stare at a stranger so long. Not sure if he's supposed to be offended or glad for nobody outside of this house had even spared him a glance, Sasuke counterattacked with a glare commonly used by his father.

"Why the hell are you staring at me, dobe?" he shouted out finally, curiosity getting the better of him. Half of him wished that the teen would flinch and power-walk away. The other half prayed to exchange words with him. Perhaps he shall hear a voice that doesn't belong to one of his relatives. Perhaps he can actually tell his parents that he's met an actual friend.

"'Cause whenever I walk by you stare at me!"

Sasuke jumped at his response. He expected him to walk away. "I do not!" Personally, he enjoyed this abnormal experience. Screaming at a total stranger over a front yard.

"Today's my birthday, cut me some slack!"

"And just because it's somebody's birthday I should allow somebody to stare at me so?"

"…You talk weird!"

Luckily, that boy had been situated too far away to see him redden. His parents were of proper folk (and so was his brother, the accomplished, young lawyer of the family), and Sasuke had been reading one too many English classics to pass his time alone in the typically vacant house.

"Well, do you want something from me?" Sasuke asked, his voice already becoming exhausted. Yelling wasn't exactly something he performed everyday – more often than not he spoke in a confident mumble.

The boy's face screwed up in thought. "Yeah. Your name."

Well, Sasuke had anticipated one hundred dollars, but this was…sufficient. No, not sufficient, even better. Bonds initiate in the exchanging of names…at least that's what Sasuke managed to reckon. "Uchiha Sasuke," he replied, his voice much softer than a shout. The boy pointed to his ear. "Uchiha Sasuke!"

"I'm Uzumaki Naruto and don't you forget it!"

_My God. _That all-too familiar line reverberated internally, like a cry atop mountain ranges. _He's _that_ kid._ Lady Luck benevolently allowed him a…nice foundation of a connection with the boy he in all probability scarred for life. Sasuke inspected him from afar _– he doesn't look scarred at all. _

"Can I come over?"

How bold. His parents failed to be around and his brother wasn't to visit home again until a week from now. "Alright, then."

* * *

The house looked like none other. In fact, it was quite the opposite of Naruto's scanty residence. "Nice place," he remarked with a grin that reminded him glaringly of his father when he peered at himself in the mirror. "Your parents must be loaded."

"I suppose so." Sasuke had never reflected about it – money, and et cetera. The silence that ensued embarrassed him. If he were to uphold one decent conversation in his life, it would be this one. Sasuke finally chose to spat out whatever lingered in his fluttering mind. "Look…you didn't want to talk to me just to get my name did you?"

"Uh…" Naruto scratched the back of his head, at a loss for words. "I actually don't know," he admitted sheepishly.

_What an idiot. _It took Sasuke five seconds afterwards to realize that he had uttered those words out loud. Surely, this 'relationship' was ruined now.

"Well then," Naruto responded with a cocky smirk on his face. "At least try to be hospitable!"

"Hospitable? You're the stranger who asked for my name and invited himself into my home!"

"And you're the one who said yes, so I'll just say that we're even," Naruto replied briskly. He located a basket of fruits and bit into one, only to apprehend that they were phony and only for show. His smile faded for a split second – turning into a scowl – as he plopped the counterfeit produce back into its place. "Sheesh, why make fake food?" he groaned, prodding at the other 'fruit' in the basket.

"Because it looks…" Sasuke searched for the right word. "Suitable." _Suitable?_

Naruto threw him a glance that evidently screamed '_what the heck?' _

Oh yes, their friendship was off to an amazing start.

* * *

"Oh, no."

"_Oh no_ what?" Naruto had, without delay, made himself at home after the fruit occurrence. Presently, he was seated at a very plush couch eating popcorn out of a bowl while watching reruns of arbitrary anime shows.

Sasuke turned to face him with an alarmed expression. "My dad's home."

"So?"

"And you're here."

"…_So?"_

"We're dead – you've got to get out," Sasuke urged, snatching the bowl of popcorn away from his guest.

"…_Why?"_ Naruto asked through a mouthful of popcorn. It wasn't as if he was a boy visiting a girl without parental permission, was it…? The clichéd over-protective father thing…?

Sasuke turned the bowl upside-down above a trash can. A waste of popcorn. "Just get out through the back door; just don't step on any of the flowers. And you can jump over the fence, you look tall enough." He nodded his head at Naruto hurriedly. "Get a move on!"

"Not until you give me an explanation."

"Later, if you get out of here alive." He sounded dead serious, and Naruto didn't appreciate such a tone. Was his dad a ogre who eats little boys that aren't one of his kin?

"Alright, alright, already…"

Naruto shouldered his backpack and snuck out the back door and vigilantly stepped over the beautifully made garden overflowing with fall flowers. He made a running leap over the fence, scarcely making it over without hitting his knee on the top. Sasuke's father, a tall man with shoulder-length hair and a fierce face had entered Sasuke's house without any suspicions.

Uzumaki Naruto instigated the remainder of his walk to his apartment while gazing back every once and a while, wondering about the mystery of the apparent imprisonment Uchiha Sasuke.


	2. Reasons

**A/N: Again, I apologize for the long wait. The chapter's painfully short, yet the time it took for me to get over writer's block was painfully long, too. Enjoy, because this reveals a little more and entails more of the future events. And, I'm moving the storyline a lot quicker than I initially planned because I lost my outline for this story. Until I find it, I'll be winging it as best as I possibly can. **

**And, later on in the story, if you're really curious, you're welcome to look up the article too. I can't do anything to stop you, though I advise you against it if you really want to be surprised.**

**Also, please look at the poll in my homepage. Your feedback is greatly appreciated. ^.^**

* * *

_June 9th, 1998_

By his request, Sasuke could breathe the outside air. By his request, he could taste food made by someone outside of the family. Sasuke was delighted and relieved, even if the experience would last for only one night.

"Happy Birthday," he smiled at his elder brother, who, on this day, entered his teenage years. Sasuke felt truly grateful that his brother entreated his parents to allowing him outside for the dinner, but a sense of foreboding enthralled his body. Everyone he knew – his aging parents and his maturing brother, is going to grow up and grow old and leave him behind.

They will, if Sasuke didn't vanish first.

Itachi grinned back at his innocent sibling, who couldn't stop glancing at other customers over his shoulder and eavesdropping on conversations that he had no business in. Fugaku reprimanded him, Mikoto pretended (or not?) to not notice, and Itachi was amused and pleased. His brother finally got what he wanted – a taste of the outside world.

Then, a panicked voice ruined it. "M-mom," Sasuke exclaimed, his hand covering his mouth. Mikoto stood up, alarmed by the tone of voice. Sasuke removed his hand, and in it, laid the tip of his tongue and splotches of blood.

"Sasuke!" Mikoto cried. Fugaku called the hospital as many people in the restaurant stared rudely at the odd sight. In their eyes, it wasn't everyday when you get to see a pitiful seven year old bite his tongue off. Sasuke flushed as he continuously spat out the metallic tasting liquid out of his mouth and into a bloodied napkin. He could just hear them – _What a stupid child. Is there something wrong with him? Maybe we should help? No, of course not. I feel bad for the parents. _

_So this is why. This is why I'm confined. _The fog of confusion lifted from his mind as the ambulance's sirens rang in the night. And Sasuke gazed at his brother, continuously saying the words:

"_I'm sorry."_

_

* * *

_

_October 11th, 2008_

Apparently, the tides have turned.

Naruto stood before the Uchiha house, geared for interrogation and prepared for harsh out-of-this-world truths. Perhaps a truth even more shocking than his father dying in a car crash, all because the other driver had one too many beers that night. Perhaps even a truth more fascinating than the lies his foster parents shoved on his plate, crudely crafted and humorously stupid.

Instead, he gripped the straps of his backpack, while observing the uncomfortably familiar silver car parked in the driveway. It appears that Sasuke's enigmatic father returned early today. The only reason that Naruto could dream of was that he became suspicious.

Oh, yes, suspicious. But certainly not as suspicious as Naruto.

* * *

A flash of raven hair caught Naruto's eye through the dimly lit window. Sasuke stepped back and noticed his visitor and pressed his hand against the glass, wearing an utterly bewildered expression.

"_Go away!" _he mouthed. Naruto shook his head vehemently, overdoing the action to get his point across plainly and bluntly. Sasuke made an exasperated face and, in one swift, yet somehow hesitant motion, he shoved his window open. "You idiot!" he whispered/screamed. "My father is home, don't you see?"

"You told me you'd tell me what's going on!"

"I said _later._" Short pause. "And why would I explain my life story to a complete stranger?"

Such simple logic left the Uzumaki baffled. "Because," he shrugged. "I _know _I've seen you somewhere before." It was a fake explanation, but lying might work out for him in circumstances such as this.

"…Really?" Sasuke didn't raise his eyebrow or say that sentence in a disbelieving tone. Naruto concealed a grin from his face – the last person he'd presume to be gullible was this guy. On the other hand, the Uchiha's mind clouded with dismay. His hand spontaneously flew up to his neck, where the scars, in spite of everything, embedded themselves onto his skin. Scars from back then.

Naruto, giddy from the unprecedented success, said, "Yeah, I'm positive. I just don't quite remember but…you look familiar. So please, tell me?"

Sasuke's defensives bolstered again, possibly fueled by the blonde's unintelligent curiosity. "There's no way I'm telling you. So you might have seen me on the streets or something. Konoha's not the biggest town out there."

_Damn. Well, the first reaction always is the strongest._ Luck emerged on Naruto's side when the phone chimed vociferously inside of Sasuke's residence. The other boy hurried away from the window and put a phone to his ear nearby. Naruto took this opportunity to get closer to the house. He vigilantly and rapidly advanced towards the window with arms wide open, so he could listen in to the conversation.

"Itachi, why are you calling?"

_Itachi?_

"No, I'm not…What? But…Okay." Sasuke rested the phone's receiver on his shoulder. "Father, Itachi wants to speak to you." There was a grunt as a reply, and undoubtedly his father had picked up a different phone.

Naruto poked his head up when Sasuke put the phone back into its place. "Now can I come in?" he asked mischievously, half laughing. The Uchiha's onyx eyes widened in some sort of unidentified understanding. He nodded almost without hesitation. Slightly shocked at the change of heart, Naruto jumped as silently as he could into the room.

"See, nothing bad happened," he declared in a half-whisper, unsure of whether or not Sasuke's father lingered close by. Naruto spotted the other boy's glowering expression. "And you still won't tell me anything?"

Sasuke turned away from him, his expression darkening with tough contemplation. He sure as hell didn't trust the boy, but he didn't want to push him away like this – primarily because this might be his only chance to actually _live…_

"Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, or CIPA."

"Huh?"

His onyx eyes finally met it's polar opposite cerulean eyes. "You heard me," he said, trying to sound as strong as he thought he was. Whenever he uttered those words, his world went spinning. It's like what he imagined it would feel like if somebody punched him hard in the stomach.

Naruto considered his words for a split second, making no sense out of them. "And you expect me to know about this?"

Sasuke turned away, feeling ashamed that he even informed the idiot. "You can get out, now."

A repeated _"Huh?"_ came.

"Get out."

Something about his tone of voice told Naruto to listen. At first, it sounded heated vexed. But as Uzumaki Naruto began walking the sidewalk back to his lonely apartment, his ears perceived those two words over and over again, a message that needs to be understood before it dies away. And, at the moment when he swung open his door, wishing his father sat in front of the television, he knew that Sasuke's anger coated his true emotion.

Sorrow.

* * *

Sasuke attempted (and failed) at keeping his mind off that Naruto. He waits a few more minutes beside the glass, wondering if the stubborn fool would endeavor to return. Of course, he didn't. Sasuke sighed and left the window and didn't look back.

And then, he recalled that he had a pressing matter to attend to. He rushed over to the phone again.

"_Sasuke, I know you're listening in._" His elder brother's voice rang out instantaneously, although it sounded rather peaceful and nonchalant. That's how he always sounded, but Sasuke knew that he continuously hid something under that poker face.

However, both brothers could hear their father's scowl through his silence. Fugaku hung up, leaving the two brothers on the phone.

"Itachi, how did you know?"

Sasuke heard a little rustle, and he pictured Itachi shrugging. "It was a gut feeling."

There was no way to deny it, so Sasuke believed him.

* * *

_October 16, 2008_

This kind of day constantly left Sasuke sitting at the edge of his seat, restless instead of motionless. His eyes scanned the roads every few minutes, looking for a black car that was a sign of Uchiha Itachi's excessive success in law. Lawyers were always paid big bucks, but he, probably the youngest prosecutors in Konoha, rapidly became one of the head honchos in the mystifying and exceedingly controversial world of lawyers.

Five minutes until Itachi's set arrival time. Any moment now, and he'd be greeting his older brother again – not only with a smiling face, but unanswered queries that must be answered.

But instead, Sasuke spied a flash of disorderly blonde hair and striking cerulean eyes. That kid. Naruto. Again, that feeling of his world spinning round conquered his internal sense. He thoroughly went to sleep several nights ago, believing in disbelief that he had scared off his one and only golden ticket. But, no. Uzumaki Naruto stood there, his eyes like a clear-blue mirror, signaling that he silently understood everything.

Sasuke's breathless moment lasted only for that one split second until that car that he searched for finally emerged on the road and pulled up in the driveway. He perceived through the windows that Itachi was staring curiously at the trespasser, Naruto. The blonde noticed and darted off like a rabbit, unable to blend with its surroundings, spotted by a wolf. Sasuke's heart felt as if it sunk through the floor with heavy realization. Naruto's probably gone. Again.

Then again, once Itachi opened the door to the house, a weighty burden lifted. "I'm home," he'd say again with a hint of a smile, for sometimes he'd hate it, and sometimes he'd love it.

"Welcome back," Sasuke said, recognizing this all too familiar bittersweet emotion.

* * *

"So."

"So," Itachi mimicked him, something they got into a habit in before they began talking about something…serious.

"How did you know?" Sasuke tapped his dull fingernails (kept dull for a reason) against the wooden kitchen counter as he cautiously (cautiously, because that's the way his parents taught him to eat) chewed on an Oreo cookie. Every time, he'd twist open the cookie and eat the cream first. Itachi had told him, jokingly, of course, long ago that eating it without opening it means that you're more mature. This offended Sasuke quite a bit, so he tried to stop his Oreo habit. But, eventually, he gave up, thinking that he'll have to live as a child to actually _live_ at this rate.

Itachi eyed his little brother vigilantly, as he relentlessly had. "I told you, gut feeling. Instinct. It never failed me before."

Sasuke scoffed. Itachi seldom used the term _gut feeling _and _instinct _as an excuse. Only when it really counted, other than in the court room. "And what will you do if it does fail you?"

"When it does, then I'll pay for the failure with my life."

* * *

_October 11, 2008_

Now, Naruto wasn't the best at school. But in situations such as these, it does him well to remember important things. Things like the many big words that, apparently, were Sasuke's reason for being a sheltered boy. Although it took him five tries to spell the words, _Anhidrosis _correctly, the page filled with links finally popped up on _Google. _Naruto selected the first one, from _Wikipedia. _

_Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis._

"Sasuke." The article was horrid, and Sasuke's name, a prayer.


End file.
